


Alignment

by sara_merry99



Series: The Adrenaline Series [4]
Category: Knight Rider (1982)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6451336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_merry99/pseuds/sara_merry99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"KITT, tell me I'm not crazy for feeling like this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alignment

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is a sequel to my stories Adrenaline, Acceleration, and Afterburner and won't make much sense if you haven't read those first (in order).  
> Betas: Many thanks to sassyinkpen for a wonderful and helpful beta and to tygermama, Sassy, catyah and andeincascade for holding my hand and keeping me going when I was frustrated.

# Alignment

"Aw, mister, you don't want to take that car on the Mojave Road." As he spoke, the park ranger looked over Michael's shoulder at KITT, parked outside the small ranger station and visitor center. "You're gonna get stuck in the dry lake bed or hung up on some rocks. Even if you make it through, you're gonna wreck your suspension and mess up that pretty paint job. That's a beauty of a car, but it's no good for this country."

Michael followed the ranger's look toward KITT and smiled at the sight of his partner gleaming in the bright desert sun. A beauty of a car indeed. "He's tougher than he looks," he answered. "I just need a couple of good maps. Should I check in at the other end so you know we've made it across the desert safely?" 

"Well, there isn't really anyplace to check in past Cima, but I'd appreciate it if you gave me a call from the gas station in Palm Gardens, Nevada." He pushed a map across the desk and wrote a phone number on it. "If I don't hear from you in five days, I'll send out a team looking for you. And here, you'll want this guide book, only costs ten bucks." He handed Michael a spiral-bound road guide.

Michael paid for the book. Before he walked away, he asked, "Do you know of anyone else on the Mojave Road right now?" 

Shaking his head the ranger said, "No one's headed out from this end for a couple of weeks. Don't know who might be coming in from Nevada. You should have it all to yourself, I expect." Michael grinned in response to that and the ranger looked from him to KITT, his expression even more concerned. "You got plenty of water and gas?"

"We're all set, thanks." When he got to the door of the small building, he looked back at the ranger, who was staring at KITT with a worried and confused look. Michael saluted him with the book in his hand and said, "I'll call you from Palm Gardens in a couple of days," then walked out into the furnace-like desert heat. 

As he settled himself in his seat, dropping the book and maps on the passenger seat, he asked, "Are you sure you're ready for this, KITT?" It was just a day after Bonnie reactivated him and Michael had the feeling that something wasn't quite right with his friend. "Fuel cells fully charged?"

"My research indicates that this should be quite a challenge, even for me," KITT answered as they pulled out of the parking lot. "But I'm ready for it if you are. I believe we could make the campground near Cima by shortly after nightfall if you like." 

Michael grimaced. "No campgrounds. Just you and me, pal, that's what this whole trip is about. I don't want to see another soul until we reach Nevada." He hoped for an echo of his sentiments in answer to that but got nothing. 

****

"How many stars do you think we can see up there?" Michael asked, an hour or so after the sky had darkened. He was laying on KITT's hood, leaning on the windshield with one arm behind his head. They'd stopped just after sunset, but KITT was still just warm enough that the residual heat felt good on his back now that the scorching heat of mid-day was giving way to a sharp chill. 

"I could try and count them, if you like," KITT answered, "but I don't think it would be a productive use of my time." Michael chuckled and patted KITT with his free hand. "In any case, it is almost certainly fewer than the grains of sand still trapped in my undercarriage." 

Michael turned his pat into a soothing stroke over the smooth surface and said, apologetically, "I didn't realize it would be that bad." 

"The worst moment by far was when you suggested using the winch to haul me out of it," KITT said, sounding aggrieved. "How humiliating." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I should have had more faith in you," Michael said, apologetically, "I was afraid the turbo boost would just dig you in deeper." The breeze picked up, swirling dust and chill around them and, now a little too cold even with his jacket, Michael got up. KITT opened the door for him before he reached the handle and Michael climbed inside gratefully. 

While he settled himself, KITT said in a somewhat thoughtful tone, "Aside from the sand, which I expect Bonnie will be finding in my circuits and gears for years to come, it really was quite lovely there." He put a picture of the lake bed, white sand and sparse grass speckled with purple and pink wildflowers with blue-green mountains in the far distance, on the monitor. A few seconds later it was followed by a picture of Michael looking out across the desert, the pure blue sky reflected in his sunglasses. 

"Hey," Michael said, in mock indignation, "You took my picture." But he was grinning as he said it, delighted that KITT had found something to enjoy in their difficult trek across the desert.. 

"Purely an accident," KITT replied, voice as dry as ever. "You walked into what would otherwise have been an excellent composition." 

Michael chuckled at that. Despite KITT's words, there was no way that picture had been an accident. "Sorry, Ansel, next time you're doing landscape photography let me know and I'll stay out of the way. Are you going to show these to Bonnie?"

"I have no idea if Bonnie would be interested in pictures of the desert," KITT said, a note of surprise in his voice. "I'm afraid I would find it difficult to explain to her what their purpose was. My memory is a perfect recording, of course, so I have no need of reminders." As he finished speaking, a note of confusion entered his voice and the monitor went dark, the picture disappearing as though it had never been.

Michael caught himself reaching toward it, as if he could catch the vanished image. "I hope you didn't get rid of those," Michael said, "I like seeing what you saw." He paused, then went on, "Maybe that was the purpose, so you could show me," hoping to invite a response. When none came for several seconds Michael leaned his seat back and fixed his gaze up at the stars clearly visible through the roof panel, carefully avoiding looking at KITT and asked, "You've been awfully quiet today. Talk to me." 

He was trying to avoid putting KITT on the spot, but it obviously didn't work because KITT's response was both immediate and completely beside the point. "We had an extended discussion of how best to get through the dry lake bed, another regarding those boulders near the lava flow, and a third when you wondered if the dark clouds we saw in the distance indicated rain. I don't believe I've been uncommunicative." 

"That's not what I meant," Michael said, "and you know it." There was a flicker of light from something on the dashboard, but Michael kept his eyes on the stars. "You've been distant. Is this about having to let the general drive you last night?" he asked, wondering if KITT would evade the question. 

"Not exactly," KITT said, quietly. "As I said then, it was extremely uncomfortable, but as soon as you were behind the wheel again the discomfort was gone." 

"What then?" Michael asked, voice as gentle as he could make it. 

"The police were supposed to find General Groves in the act of stealing me," KITT said, though there was no reproach in his voice, just deep confusion. "It simply doesn't compute that you imperiled the Foundation's case against him because of my unfortunate reaction to him driving me."

"He was hurting you. I'm not sure how, but that was all I cared about. You were as upset as I've ever seen you." Michael dropped his hand to the passenger seat, feeling protective again but unable to do anything about it.

"Upset?" KITT's voice was almost brittle. "Michael, you know better than that. I don't have feelings..." 

Interrupting him sharply, Michael said, "Yes you do, KITT." Once KITT was silent, he went on, much more gently, "You've always had them, even when you didn't want them." 

There was a long pause, then KITT said, "I wish I could argue with you," in a soft voice. 

Michael sat up then and leaned forward to cross his arms across the open top of the steering wheel, needing to be closer now. "I'm glad you can't," he said, hoping KITT would understand what he meant. He thought about saying more, but even if he'd been ready to give voice to his emotions, KITT wasn't ready to hear about them. The time was coming fast enough when he wouldn't be able to keep in the words that crowded him. Absently, Michael reached out with one finger and touched KITT's voice panel, stroking lightly. 

He wasn't sure what he expected in response, but what he got, a light electrical touch on his fingertip, was a surprise. The current spread out like warm water over his entire body in a gentle wave that started to ease the tension of the previous week out of his muscles. As the soothing current flowed, KITT asked in a more normal tone, "Have I ever mentioned that human emotions are very difficult to make sense of?" 

"I recall the sentiment on a few occasions, yes," Michael said, with a smile. "And I bet dealing with your own doesn't make it any easier." He knew he was pushing, but he wasn't going to let KITT try and wish his feelings away again, not if he could help it anyway. 

"No, it doesn't," KITT sounded confused and lost, but the relaxing energy massage continued unbroken and Michael let himself be comforted by it.

Wanting to return the comfort he was getting, Michael turned the conversation in a different direction, giving KITT some space. "If it makes you feel any better, their fingerprints were found on your steering wheel and gear shift, there's surveillance footage from the garage, and we have your recordings of them driving you. That part of the case is fine. Devon's worried about something else." 

"That is good to know, thank you," KITT said, sounding somewhat relieved. "I'd hate to think that awful experience was for nothing."

Michael nodded in whole-hearted agreement. A few minutes later, when he was almost bonelessly relaxed, KITT's energy touch shifted. It still wasn't erotic, not yet, though the promise was there and Michael opened himself to the sensation, sitting back in his seat and stretching his legs. "I was hoping for some of this..." he whispered.

"As was I," KITT said. "It is...intoxicating." As he spoke, a rill of energy ran slowly down Michael's body, starting as a gentle touch on his lips and intensifying as it went, waking his skin up with the pleasure. He was already hard by the time it passed over his cock, and he moaned when the energy passed over it, down and back up, the current tripping along the metal zipper of his jeans like a waterfall. "Very much so," KITT said, in a low voice. 

Michael smiled and would have replied, but his words were lost in a hiss of surprise as the current split to swirl around both of his nipples at once, coursing around and over until they were throbbing hard, aching sweetly with the pleasure. "Oh," he breathed, "God, KITT. That's...yes." The energy changed somehow, the touch on his nipples firmer, almost palpable, and he arched into it, asking without words for more. But instead of more, the touch faded and gentled until it was a bare caress and Michael raised one hand to his chest, trying to bring it back and hold it there. "KITT?" he asked looking toward the dashboard, confused at the loss of contact. 

"Take your shirt off," KITT said, voice strained and tight. "I...Please." 

Michael hesitated for a second, then stripped off his t-shirt and threw it into the back seat. "Better?" KITT's response was an electrical touch that covered his entire torso, a surge of pleasure that brought goosebumps up on his skin and made every hair so sensitive that the air itself was another caress. "Damn," Michael said, the word fading into a breathy sigh, "that's so good." KITT shifted the current again, hard then soft then hard again over his already sensitized skin, and Michael moaned and dropped his shaking hands to open his fly. Before he went further than that, though, he stopped, hands poised to slide off his jeans.

When he looked up, KITT said, softly, "Yes. I want to see you." Michael nodded and, without shifting his gaze, toed off his boots and pushed his jeans and briefs off, leaving them crumpled together in the footwell. He lay back in the seat and as he did so KITT said, "You're magnificent, Michael," and ran a exploratory trail of energy from the crown of his cock down the shaft. 

Michael gripped his thigh hard as his cock jumped to follow the touch then slapped against his belly, leaving a thick streak of pre-come. Without his clothes as a barrier, KITT's electric caress was more precise, more intense, and somehow even more delicate, the whisper soft flow over his chest providing a perfect counterpoint to the focused contact that traced trails over the head of his cock like a wicked tongue.

Michael moaned as the energy touch spread down his shaft in a series of waves, rippling hot and intense, and he reached for KITT, wanting to give back some of what he was feeling. As he did so, KITT ran a line of perfect searing pleasure under and through the waves, swirling it around his cockhead. When the focused current trilled over the sensitive join of head and shaft, he gasped. His gasp became a long hiss of pleasure as KITT kept an intense touch of electricity on that spot. His reaching hand finally found something to grip and he held the handbrake tightly as he thrust into the pleasure, his rhythm matching the rippling waves that covered his cock and lapped over his nipples. KITT held him there, poised on the brink, for a timeless moment, then the energy coalesced into one wave that broke over him like a tsunami. He came hard, shooting in strong pulses that landed on his chest and stomach in hot flares of electric pleasure, each one feeding the wave that washed over him from his cock out, and he moaned KITT's name over and over in a broken voice as reality faded away. 

He came back to himself slowly, the way eased by KITT's soft, soothing current flowing over him like a blanket. The car was warm, even on his sweaty and come-spattered skin, and he smiled. He opened his eyes to see the lights on the dashboard flickering back to their normal readings and said, "That was..." But words failed him and he fell silent. 

KITT finished his thought perfectly, saying, "Definitely intoxicating. I've never heard you say my name like that before."

The emotions and words that had been crowding Michael earlier were there again, strong and insistent and he sat up, feeling way too far away. "KITT," he said, crossing his arms over the steering wheel again, "tell me I'm not crazy for feeling like this."

KITT flowed a soft caress over Michael's skin, but his voice was almost normal when he said, "We should discuss your sanity in the morning, Michael. According to the maps there are several more treacherous stretches of the road to navigate, including the Mojave River floodplain. More loose sand, I'm afraid. You'll need your sleep." The windows darkened and the lights on the dashboard and monitor faded into darkness. 

Michael grunted, unsatisfied by the answer, but touched the last dimming light on the voice panel as a say of saying good night, then lay back, taking his familiar position on his side, and closed his eyes. 

As he fell into sleep, he dreamed he heard KITT say very softly, "I believe we should also discuss mine," in a world of blue skies and sand and the hum of KITT's engine. 

*****

Michael woke the next morning with the dawn light gently warming him. He rolled to his back and stretched his legs, kicking his boots and jeans in the footwell. His cock, piss hard, twitched against his stomach as he remembered the sensations and emotions of the night before. He'd never planned on feeling like this for his partner, wanting him like this, but the feelings were undeniable, and as good as the warm sunshine on his skin. He tucked an arm behind his head and said, "Good morning," giving KITT's voice panel a smile. With his free hand, he caressed the soft leather of the seat next to his hip. 

"Good morning, Michael," KITT said. "It's six seventeen am, or twenty six minutes past dawn. I hope you don't mind me waking you so early." In the space of a few seconds, Michael thought of and discarded half a dozen ways to tell KITT what he was thinking and feeling, but he never got a chance to find the right one, because KITT went on, "We should head out as soon as possible. We need to make Fort Piute by nightfall and it's 58.37 extremely difficult miles from here." His voice was completely normal, familiar, businesslike, and Michael could feel the space KITT was trying to create between them. 

With a curse under his breath, Michael raised the seat back and asked, "Hey, what's up? Everything okay?" He didn't really expect an answer, at least not one that let him know what KITT had been thinking all night to put this distance between them, but he had to ask.

"Just a very long day ahead of us," KITT said, tonelessly evading the question. 

Michael shoved his feet into his boots, and grabbed his jeans. "I know what you're trying to do here, KITT, and it's not going to work." KITT said nothing and Michael opened the car door saying, "You can't wish your emotions away. Or mine." He stepped out of the car into the brisk morning, not nearly as pleasant as the warmth inside KITT.

"We can discuss that later, Michael, but for now we should go." KITT said, sounding almost as tense as Michael felt. 

Michael leaned back in so he could look at KITT's voice panel and said, "For now." 

*****

"Michael, I'm picking up a cry for help in my sensors," KITT said, less than a mile down the road. 

Michael, who was eating a peanut butter sandwich and drinking a Coke for breakfast while KITT drove, swallowed, and said, "Help? Where?" He flicked the switch to put the scanner readings on the monitor. A topographic map of the immediate area appeared on the screen, one corner of it highlighted in blue. 

"Somewhere in that area, but I can't be certain exactly where yet," KITT said, turning off the rough dirt road onto a pair of barely-visible wheel tracks that traced along the side of a line of high, barren hills. "It's coming from just beyond the edge of my scanner range."

Michael pressed the button for manual mode and said, "Keep working on it." 

"Of course," KITT said. As they went further along the track, the blue area shrunk and narrowed until, after a few minutes KITT said, "Michael, it's coming from about a half-mile away, up in the mountains. According to the map there's an abandoned mine there." 

"Can we get to it?" Michael asked, looking at the map.

"Yes, there's a track much like this one that leads to the mine," KITT said, then went on with a note of urgency, "Her voice is getting weaker, we need to hurry." 

"I'm trying," Michael said, pressing a little harder on the accelerator, "but some of these rocks are hard to get around and you can't turbo boost over a half mile of boulders."

KITT gave Michael directions to the abandoned mine, telling him where to turn, letting Michael focus on avoiding the obstacles in their path, and when he finally said to stop, Michael took his first look at what they'd been driving through. They were at the head of a dusty canyon, the rock walls baked to a hard dun color. About twenty feet in front of them was the remains of a building--its roof caved in and the rocks of the mountain beyond visible through gaps in the walls where the grey boards had dried and split in the baking heat of the desert. 

"The mine shaft is behind that building," KITT said, as Michael turned on surveillance mode and climbed out of the car. "She's stopped calling for help." Michael trotted around toward the back of the building, listening for any sign of life.

The mine shaft went down into the ground behind the building, the opening covered by a wooden lean-to roof even more ramshackle than the building it was attached to, but solid enough to cast the top of the shaft into deep shadow. Michael approached carefully, and called out, "Hey! Are you okay?" There was a faint moan in reply, half formed words but nothing more and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least she was still alive.

Michael got to the edge and looked around. He'd been expecting the shaft to go into the rock, but the opening was a rough square in the sandy ground, shored up with desiccated wood, freshly broken on one side. Apparently that was how the woman had fallen in. He looked into the shaft, almost on reflex, but there was nothing but darkness. 

There was an ominous creak from the wood and he stepped away from the edge a couple of paces. As he did so he shouted down, "My name is Michael. We're gonna get you out of there, okay?" The only reply was the wind through the old wood. 

As stepped back into the sunlight, he spotted a dusty green backpack propped against the wall of the building and picked it up. "KITT, I need you back here," he said into his wrist communicator. 

"I'm already on my way," KITT answered, coming around the corner as he spoke. KITT was coming quickly and Michael dropped the backpack on the ground and stepped aside. Seconds later, KITT stopped so that the pack was centered in his scanner and Michael next to the open driver's window, as perfect as if they'd planned it. 

Smiling faintly, despite the tension, Michael stroked the door as he leaned down to look inside. "How are her vital signs?"

After a moment, KITT said, "Alarming. She's lost a great deal of blood and she's dehydrated. Frankly, I'm surprised she was able to call for help at all. She's barely conscious. I've contacted emergency services, but they're going to have to bring a helicopter in from San Bernardino. They're estimating forty minutes before they get here."

"I've got to get down there, get your winch ready," Michael said, opening the hatchback and stuffing some rope, his first aid kit, an electric lantern, and a canteen into a rucksack. Dropping the rucksack on the ground next to the car, he pulled out the climbing harness, straightening straps.

As he buckled the straps around his waist and thighs, Michael asked, "Anything interesting in that backpack?" Once he was buckled in, he grabbed another flashlight, tested the battery, and dropped it in his pocket. 

"A very small first aid kit, a bag of trail mix, a canteen, a jacket, sunscreen. According to her driver's license her name is Sharon Wheeler," KITT said. "She seems to have been woefully ill-prepared."

"She wasn't planning on being out all night," Michael said. He clipped a belay device to his harness and threaded the cable from KITT's winch through it, checking that everything was secure. "Okay, you ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be," KITT said. As Michael positioned himself on the edge of the mine shaft, KITT said, his voice intense, "Michael, be careful. Please." 

It seemed like there was going to be more and Michael waited a few seconds before he nodded in understanding. "I will, KITT, I promise," he said, then stepped backwards into the dark shaft.

****

As soon as he'd freed himself from the rope, Michael pulled out the lantern, shining it around so he could see where he was. The vertical shaft ended in a ten foot square chamber carved into the bedrock, one side of which disappeared into darkness going deeper into the mountain. The shaft had gone from the wood planking to rock about halfway down the 30-foot drop, but there were a few boards piled at the bottom, old wood from the mine construction. 

The woman sat against the wall, curled into a crumpled ball. He could see marks in the dirt where she'd moved and gave a sigh of relief. He set the lantern down so it illuminated the entire chamber and pulled the canteen and first aid kit out of his rucksack, before approaching her. He called her name as moved slowly and carefully toward her. She didn't respond, but he wanted her to know he was there.

"I'm just going to check you out here," he said, then kept up a running patter as he squatted next to her using his small flashlight to get a good look. Her right arm was bandaged with a strip of cloth torn from her shirt, but the bandage was dark with blood, and from the odd mis-shape of it, he was pretty sure she had a compound fracture. He didn't want to move her with that unless he had to, and he breathed a word of thanks that the helicopter was on the way. The EMTs would be far better equipped for that than he was. He gave a moment's thought to rebandaging and splinting her arm while she was still unconscious, possibly sparing her some pain, but discarded the idea. If she woke frightened and disoriented while he was splinting her arm, she could do even more damage to herself. 

He called her name again and stroked her cheek with one finger, trying to wake her gently. She stirred faintly and he said, "That's it, that's it. Come on back." He shifted so her head was propped up on his arm and poured water over her lips a few drops at a time until she moaned and started to respond, licking the water off her dry lips. "Drink slow," he said, as he gave her a bit more to drink. 

At his voice, her eyes opened and she pulled away, then screamed with pain as she jostled her arm. Michael steadied her as she curled around it, sobbing with the pain. When she'd calmed, at least somewhat, he said, "My name's Michael. You're Sharon, right?" 

"Yes," she croaked, her throat still obviously dry. She nodded, then paled at the movement, and even in the dim light he could see that her eyes were glassy. She probably had a concussion as well as the broken arm.

Michael gave her iron-tense shoulders a reassuring squeeze and said, "You're going to be okay. My friend KITT's called 911 and a helicopter will be here for you soon." She looked around slowly, moving her head very carefully, blinking against the light when she turned in the direction of the lantern, and Michael answered the unvoiced question, "KITT's up on the surface. Do you know how you got down here?" 

She reached toward the canteen with her good hand and Michael supported the weight of it while she drank. After a few mouthfuls she lowered the canteen, a scared look on her face, and said, "No. I think...I fell, right?" 

"That's what it looks like," Michael agreed, nodding and patting her shoulder. "Do you know where you are?" 

She reached for the canteen and drank again, more deeply, then asked, "The desert?" When Michael nodded, she went on, "Looks like a whole lotta trouble." She gave him a wan smile. "How'd you find me?" she asked.

"KITT heard you calling for help." She looked confused at that and he added, "my friend up at the top of the shaft," but her face didn't clear. Michael pursed his lips and turned to look at her arm. He couldn't do anything about a concussion but he could do a little bit to help there. At his look she pulled it closer to her, her other arm wrapped around it protectively, and he asked, as gently as possible, "How bad is it?" 

"Real bad," she said, leaning her head back against the wall. Her face was pale and the pinched tension around her eyes and mouth showed the truth of her words. When Michael reached for the first aid kit, she said with an edge of panic in her voice, "Don't, please." 

"I've got a splint that should help," Michael said, pulling an inflatable splint out of the first aid kid. When she nodded, he blew it up and folded it around her arm as gently as possible, continuing to work despite her whimpers and the tears rolling down her cheeks. When he was done, he held her while she cried, careful of all her injuries but knowing she needed someone to be there. 

After a few minutes, she pulled away and wiped her eyes, giving him an embarrassed look for a moment. "Sorry," she said, "I appreciate what you're doing." She reached for the canteen again. 

Michael was about to respond when KITT's voice came through the communicator, tense and strained. "Michael, the wood supporting the shaft is starting to give way. I can see fine cracks forming. You and Ms. Wheeler have got to get out of there." 

Sharon stared at him, the canteen lowering slowly, as if forgotten, but he ignored her and answered, "How far away is the helicopter?"

"Too far," KITT said, "You have to hurry." Michael knew that tone, and stood immediately, pulling the rope out of his rucksack. Compound fracture or not, they had to get out of that mine. 

He looked at Sharon. "I hate do to this, but you heard him. Have you done much climbing?" She shook her head and he forced himself not to wince. This would be a lot easier if she had an idea what to do, even if she wasn't able to help much because of her injuries. "Then the safest way for you is for me to strap you to one of those boards," he nodded at the pile of wood in the corner. Her eyes widened and he could see that she was about to protest but before she could do so he said, "I'll be right next to you every inch of the way, I promise. But I'll be able to protect your arm better if you're on something firm." 

She nodded then and said, "What do I need to do?" 

"Just trust me," he said, giving her a smile. 

A few minutes later she was securely lashed to the board, her splinted arm carefully arranged and padded. He hitched himself to the rope so that he would stay level with her. As soon as he did so he thumbed the wrist communicator. "KITT, he said, "you're going to have to do all the work here. I won't be able to climb and hold her steady. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm more worried about the mine collapsing. The wood is very fragile." KITT said, "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, right," Michael said, not reassured by that answer. He looked up toward the rectangle of sky visible at the top of the shaft and said, "Okay, do it. Start slow." 

As soon as they were going up the wall, Sharon whimpered but Michael kept his attention on guiding her safely as they rose. He wanted that arm kept as far away from the rock as possible. It got harder when they got to the wood planked part of the shaft, the rougher surface grabbing at the ropes and the board at her back and she moaned with each bump.

"Michael!" 

KITT's frantic shout was the only warning Michael got before a chunk of wood broke loose over his head, slicing his face and ripping into his arm. It was followed by a deafening roar as rock and dirt pummeled them both. Michel pulled himself forward, ignoring the pain in his arm and pinned Sharon between himself and the stone wall, protecting her with his body. Several larger rocks ricocheted off his back as they fell, each one leaving a deep sear of pain where it hit. Sand and gravel poured around them both in a cloud of dust that was almost impossible to breathe. Through the din of the rockslide he could hear KITT calling his name, or he thought he could, but before he could respond, he heard and felt a crash and his world exploded in a flare of white pain, then everything went black. 

*****

Noisy, way too noisy. KITT should never sound like that, never sound choppy and tortured. Shouldn't bounce like that either, not even landing after a turbo boost. There was an irregular beat to KITT's engine that jarred and jostled him until every bump made his stomach twist into knots. Not normal at all and through the blackness that still clung to him he realized something was very wrong."KITT!" he said with a gasp, eyes flying open. 

An unfamiliar man put his hand on Michael's chest and said, "She's right over there." He shifted so that Michael could see a girl on a gurney next to him, her face half covered by a breathing mask and an IV trailing out of her arm. Shannon, no Sharon. He remembered her, remembered the mine shaft. Remembered KITT pulling them up, rocks and dust. 

He shook his head, then winced at the pain. "No. Her name is Sharon." The EMT nodded and made a note on a clipboard he held. Michael looked around as best he could. MedEvac helicopter. Damn. "Not her. My friend, in the car. KITT." 

The man shook his head. "There was no one in the car when we found you, sir. Just you and Sharon a few feet from the edge of the collapsed mine." 

He shook his head at the man's words, trying to think through the thickness in his head. KITT had pulled them out then. He tried to lift his arm, to bring the wrist communicator to where he could speak into it, but he couldn't move. He struggled against the restraint on reflex, waking up a host of pains in his arms and back. 

The EMT put his hand on Michael's chest, holding him down, holding him still. "It's okay, we just don't want you getting bounced around if things get rough up here." When Michael stopped struggling, the man sat back, "Relax. We're taking you to the hospital in Baker. She's in pretty bad shape, but you just have some minor injuries and a slight concussion."

Michael clenched his teeth, catching his breath, and said, "You radioed in to the hospital right? They know we're coming?"

With a pat on his chest, the man said, "Yeah, just take it easy, sir. Sharon's going to get the best care available. You'll both be fine." 

Michael subsided then, closing his eyes. If they'd contacted the hospital, KITT would know where to go, would know where to find him. "Tell the hospital I'm okay," he said as he let himself drift back into the blackness, more comfortable than the reality of the helicopter. "He needs to know." 

*****

"Devon, I need you to call KITT." Michael winced as he said that, knowing the likely response, but three hours of unsuccessfully trying to talk to his partner on the communicator had him frantic to make contact.

"You need me to call him? Why?" Devon said, in exactly the tone of voice Michael expected. "Why aren't the two of you together?"

"There was an incident," Michael said, propping his head in his free hand, carefully avoiding the bandage on his forehead. 

"An incident? Michael, are you in jail again?" Devon asked, amusement in his voice. 

Michael tried to chuckle, it was a fair question after all, but he was too achy for it to sound like anything more than a cough. "No," he answered, "I'm in the hospital." There was a gasp from the other end of the line, but he kept on talking. "I've been here a few hours and I can't raise KITT on the comlink." 

As soon as he stopped talking, the barrage of questions started, how and when and where, each of them feeding the headache that pounded behind his eyes. He lowered the phone to his shoulder, lifting it to his ear again when the words stopped. "There was a girl." Devon snorted and Michael snapped, "She was trapped in a mine and badly injured. We were rescuing her. KITT saved us both, but in the process I got knocked out. MedEvac airlifted us out before I came to." 

Devon said, "I'm sure he's on his way to the hospital right now," in his most soothing voice.

Michael rubbed his forehead, trying to believe the comforting words. But all he could see was KITT mired up to his wheels in the clinging white sand of a river bed, stuck and needing help. Or, worse, broken on the rocks. KITT would have gone ahead on the Mojave Road rather than retracing their steps of the day before, there was a crossing with a paved road only a few miles from where they found Sharon. But that meant unknown obstacles and dangers. Possibly a road impassable even to KITT. After a few moments, he groaned and said, "Just...please." 

Devon paused for a second and said, "I'll call him. Where are you?" 

"Baker. I'll be released as soon as they bring me the forms," Michael said, glossing over the fact that the doctor wanted to keep him overnight for observation, because of a concussion and some deep contusions to his back. But he'd made it clear he was leaving as soon as possible and they'd been forced to agree. If he'd known where to go, how to find KITT, he'd have walked out was soon as they removed the restraints. But with KITT out of touch, he'd allowed them to stitch the lacerations on his forehead and arm and bandage the minor abrasions. 

He gave Devon the number for his hospital room and lay back on the bed, every muscle tense, and waited for news. The television on the other side of the room blared soap opera drama, but Michael hardly heard it, his mind spinning around in circles, mired in worry. Every few minutes, he'd try again to reach KITT on the communicator, and every failure made his head hurt that much worse. 

He was about to make another attempt when the communicator beeped and KITT said, "Michael, are you there?" He spoke quickly, sounding nervous or perhaps excited.

Hearing his voice, Michael's heart leapt and some of the muscle tension that had been holding his emotions at bay released. "KITT," Michael said, embarrassed at the break in his voice. "Are you okay? Where are you?" 

"I'm less than a minute away from the hospital," KITT said, sounding as relieved as Michael felt. 

Michael sat up, moving gingerly, and swung his legs off the bed, his back and head and stomach protesting the movement. "What took you so long?" 

"The EMTs failed to radio the hospital when they took off with you and Ms. Wheeler," KITT said, "It was very sloppy of them. You should file a complaint with their superiors. I proceeded to the junction with the road to Cima and..." He paused. "I had no way to know where you'd been taken, Michael," he went on, sounding as though the words hurt him. 

"God, I'm sorry," Michael said, standing carefully, supporting himself on the bed. "I thought...I should have called Devon sooner." He got to the window in time to see KITT turn into the parking lot. He was sleek and perfect and Michael couldn't look away, watching as KITT made his way to a parking space immediately in front of the window. He was only twenty feet away, and Michael breathed deeply for the first time since waking up in the helicopter. KITT's scanner tracked more quickly as Michael rested his hand on the glass between them, as warm to his touch as KITT would be. "You're a sight for sore eyes, pal."

"You, on the other hand, look awful. Please sit down before you fall over and injure yourself further," KITT said, with a gentle note in his voice.

Michael looked away just long enough to find a chair and drag it to the window, situating it so he could sit and look out. Once he was seated, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the windowsill. "I'm fine," he said. Despite the stitches and the concussion and the aches he'd be feeling for days, he knew that was more true now than it had ever been before. "How about you? Did you have any trouble on the Mojave Road? Was there more sand?" 

Before KITT could answer, the elderly man on the other side of Michael's semi-private room said, "Be quiet over there, I can't hear my stories."

KITT obviously heard the man, because he said, in a voice pitched for Michael's ears only, "He has worse taste in television than even you."

Michael was still chuckling when the nurse came in with papers for him to sign. She looked dismayed that he was sitting by the window rather than in bed, but she pulled the table over and set her papers down. After she talked him through his instructions from the doctor, she spread a few pages and pointed, "Sign here, and here, and initial here and here." Michael nodded and took the pen without a word. 

When he'd signed and initialed, the nurse scooped up the papers and turned to go, but Michael said, "I was brought in with a girl, Sharon Wheeler. How's she doing?" 

The nurse stopped and gave him a faint smile that didn't match her words, "She was flown out to the hospital in San Bernardino a few hours ago. No one told you?" 

"No," Michael said. "Is she going to be okay?" 

"I can't really answer that," the nurse said, "but I know the EMTs said you saved her life when you found her and got her out of that mine. Apparently it was completely collapsed when they got there." 

Michael looked out the window at KITT and smiled. "No, my friend saved us both," he said. 

The nurse gave him a brighter smile and said, "The orderly will be here in a few minutes with a wheelchair," then turned and walked out, her crepe-soled shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. 

As soon as she left, he stood up, moving slowly to keep back the nausea that swirled around him every time me moved his head too fast, grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and pulled on his boots. When he was done, he looked out the window again and said into the communicator, "I'm out of here. Meet me out front."

KITT didn't answer except to back out of the parking space and head toward the main entrance of the hospital. 

With a wave at the old man, who didn't take his eyes off the TV, Michael walked out of his room.

When he stepped from the shadowed coolness of the hospital into the painful brightness and heat outside, the sunlight sent his headache spiralling. He closed his eyes with a groan, trying to hold the light, and the pain, back. He opened them again a few seconds later, to see KITT in front of him, engine humming. Michael smiled and stepped forward. As he did so, the driver's door opened in a silent invitation. As soon as the seat was cradling his battered body, KITT started a soothing flow of energy and Michael made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan as he sagged into both, letting the comfort of being back where he belonged sink into him. 

"Are you certain you should be leaving the hospital?" KITT asked, as he closed the door. "I heard the doctor say you were leaving against medical advice."

"I'll be fine," Michael said, sighing again as the aches in his back started to recede under KITT's soft touch. "You'll do a better job of keeping an eye on me than they would." 

"Without a doubt," KITT said, pulling away from the curb. "I'm accessing all of the information in my databanks regarding concussions. If I detect any adverse symptoms, I'm bringing you back here immediately." He turned out of the parking lot and onto Baker's one main street.

****

Michael woke to the sight of an orange and golden sunset in the distance, the light warming the rocks that surrounded them and casting spiky purple shadows from the Joshua trees. He stretched, expecting the sharp pain in his back again, but getting only a deep, almost ignorable, twinge. "Where are we?" he asked looking around. 

KITT put up a map on the monitor screen with their location marked by a red dot. They were just off the road from Cima to Kelso, not far from the junction with the Mojave Road. "Approximately five and three-quarters miles from the mine," KITT said. "I'm afraid there's no way we can make Fort Piute today, so I found a place to spend the night while you were sleeping. Does this meet with your approval?"

"Yeah, this is nice," Michael said, looking around. It was a lovely little corner of the desert, hidden from the road by a large outcropping of rock. A small cluster of Joshua trees and agave, probably following the bed of a long dried stream, gave a sense of shelter against the huge sky, turning indigo behind them as it blazed with color far to the west. "Why didn't you just go back to the mansion though?" he asked. Normally KITT drove through the night while he slept.

"Devon will undoubtedly have a mission for us as soon as we return," KITT said, "and you're in no condition for that. In any case, we're not expected back until day after tomorrow." His words were all business, but his tone was warm and Michael relaxed a little

"Thanks, pal," Michael said, patting the seat next to him. His head was only marginally better than it had been, but at least his stomach had settled. He thought about getting food, it had been twelve hours since his hasty breakfast, but wasn't hungry enough to go to the effort of turning around to get a sandwich out of the cooler chest in the back seat. 

As he sat there, taking in the comfort and the beauty around him, his eye fell on the voice panel and he remembered the distance KITT had created between them that morning. He stifled a groan and closed his eyes. That distance was gone now, KITT obviously as happy they were reunited as he was, but they still needed to talk. He rubbed his forehead, grimacing when he hit the stitches on his forehead and tried to think of what to say, how he could raise the subject at all without recreating the problem he was trying to solve. But the concussion made thinking difficult, and after a moment he gave up on finding a subtle approach. Sometimes direct was best anyway. "KITT, we need to talk." 

"You're referring to this morning, of course," KITT said, voice quiet, then paused. Surprised, Michael nodded and waved his hand in invitation. After a few moments KITT went on, "Very well. I was...I am having some difficulty interpreting and accepting the values my floating circuits are returning." Michael raised an eyebrow and KITT said, "What you refer to as my emotions." 

Michael said up straight and gave the voice panel a fierce glare, saying, "You're not going to try and convince me that your emotions are errors..." He was suddenly tense, waiting for a fight.

But the fight he feared never came. KITT's voice dropped even further, almost to a whisper, and he said, "Not errors, no." Michael relaxed, slightly, though he still sat rigid. "But unexpected, just the same." As he spoke, KITT put up two different pictures on the dual monitor screens. One was from the dried lake bed the day before and showed Michael's back, the wind blowing his hair, his t-shirt damp with sweat and sticking to his skin, shaping the muscles of his back. The other, Michael, unconscious, dust-covered, and bloody, was obviously from that morning. He went on without a pause, voice still soft, "I have always valued you as my driver, Michael, and the friendship that grew from that has been very gratifying. However..." The voice panel flickered for a few seconds, though KITT said nothing.

"When you're one of a kind, companionship does not compute," Michael said, remembering something KITT said a few months into their partnership, when they encountered KARR.

KITT responded quickly, sounding relieved, "Precisely. Nothing in my programming predicted I would respond to you in this manner. Even less that you would, or could, respond to me." A quick trail of energy, like a finger, ran down Michael's chest, ending at his belt buckle. 

Michael leaned forward to touch the lights on the voice panel as they faded away. "I didn't expect this either, buddy," Michael said, "but there's a lot more going on here than just...," he paused, then waved at his chest, where KITT's touch still tingled on his skin. "I'm not going to run away from what I feel for you." When KITT didn't respond right away, he went on, "And I'm not going to let you run away. There's way too much between us for that."

"Yes, there is," KITT said. There was a moment of quiet, and the monitor screens faded to black. Michael rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the steering wheel, and gently caressed the voice panel as he looked at the sunset, which had deepened to red shot through with streaks of purple and orange. After a moment, KITT said in an uncertain voice, "I'm at a disadvantage, I'm afraid. I've never experienced anything like this before. It's very unsettling."

Michael chuckled faintly and said, "This is gonna be new for me too, pal." He traced his finger over the dark line of KITT's tachometer. Michael put his arm across the open top of the steering wheel and rested his chin on it. "It's not like it's completely out of the blue, though. At least not for me. This has been building for months, maybe even since we met, it just took a while for me to see it." More than time, he thought, it had taken KITT's voice, low and tender, murmuring his name to let him see what might be possible between them. 

"Both my diagnostic and Bonnie's showed these values to be well within the range of my usual operating parameters," KITT said sounding thoughtful. "Apparently I also failed to notice."

Michael nodded, chin digging into his arm. "Don't worry, KITT, we'll work it out." 

"We always do," KITT said, sounding more confident. "I trust we'll be approaching this with our usual strategy of improvisation and..."

Michael grinned. "Winging it?" KITT made an affirmative noise and Michael laughed as he leaned back in his seat. "It's always worked for us before, no sense breaking a winning streak."


End file.
